


I Wake Up Still Tired

by Thatkindghost



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Coping, F/F, Moving On, canon missing character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2019-03-01 23:03:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13305219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thatkindghost/pseuds/Thatkindghost
Summary: Daisy Dreams of Della every night, unable to get the closure she needs to finally let her go- or not wanting to.





	I Wake Up Still Tired

There are times, in the winter especially, when Daisy has dreams. They're kind dreams, the ones where she wakes up and for a moment forgets how the world is so much colder, now, and so much more lonely.

_They always start the same, with her and Della. She has her legs crossed, and Della rests her head in her lap, and looks up at her as Daisy looks down at her. There's nothing else in the world except for them, together, on a small grassy hill with the warmth of the sun shining bright on them both._

She does not miss Della everyday, but sometimes she'll wake up and roll over and expect her to be there, sharing her bed, snoring quietly. She can picture the line of drool on her chin, can even imagine her own sleepy disgust at the sight, thinking of all the times she's rolled over and gone back to sleep.

Daisy is not one to dwell in the past, but Della is someone worth dwelling on. She wishes she had kissed her more, or could hold her, or had told her she loved her just once.

_In the dream, Della will trace patterns onto Daisys hands, where she rests them on her collarbone comfortably. Della smiles, and its soft and a bit silly on the edges._

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_"What are you thinking about?" Daisy asks._

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_"I was thinking about what it would be like if we met somewhere different." Della says simply, offering no further explaination._

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_Daisy cocks her head to the side, well-used to Dellas short answers by now to know the right question to ask next, "well, what would it be like?"_

Donald and Daisy had always been close, it was through him she'd met Della, but before her it had just been the two of them. Maybe Gladstone too, if he decided he wanted to. Daisy once thought Donald had a crush on her, maybe even loved her, and at one point maybe she had though she loved him too. Sometimes she can remember how good they were as friends and she thinks maybe she could bring herself to love him, if only for the comfort of someone to be with instead if herself and an empty bed, but then she remembers the tenseness in his shoulders when they kissed or the way his eyes lingered everywhere but her. She thinks, maybe, that he always thought they were just supposed to... end up together. That it was an inevitability, unavoidable, and he put aside himself to follow the preconceived notion of who everyone thought he should be.

And then she remembers Della and knows she's just using him for the comfort of a memory, and hangs up a phone she never dialed in the first place.

_"Oh," Dell says, idle, " Maybe You'd be a princess, and i could be a princess too. We'd meet at a fancy ball you were throwing, and we'd both be wearing the most beautiful dresses. You'd find me in the courtyard and you'd try to keep me from jumping in the fountain after a frog." Della pauses for Daisy to laugh and she obliges her willingly, "I'd convince you to stay, with me, underneath the stars and away from everyone else."_

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_The warmth of the sun would turn to the coolness of the moon, twinkling lights blinking in the edge of Daisy's vision. "You would kiss me." Della says softly in the quietness of the night, "We could be queens, ruling side by side, would you like that?"_

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_"I would love it." She would breathe, whisper ghosting over Dellas face._

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_Della blinks and the scenes blurs at the tips and she sits up, "how did it get so late?" She frowned, perfect yet out of place at the same time, "I promised I'd be home for dinner, I need to go before Donald starts to worry." She explains, apologetic, and she gets to her feet "Goodbye, Daisy."_

The dream always ended then, before Daisy could say it back. She would wake up, feeling warm and fuzzy as she reaches for someone she thinks, if only for a moment, is going to be there to hold her hand again. Realizing she was alone again leaves her cold. Then she gets up, because it's nearly 5am and she knows she won't be able to go back to sleep, and she gets ready for work and leaves at 6 o’clock sharp so she wont be late and gets off somewhere around 3 if she finishes her work. Then she goes on a date. Then she comes home, scrolls social media and likes whatever new photo Donald has posted (its the boys tenth birthday at Funso's, shed been invited but hadn't been able to make it because of work, but made sure to at least send a present for them. She hadn't actually seen him in a long time.) And makes a post about something arbitrary before she decided to go to bed. The routine is always the same, for the most part. Sometimes instead of a date shed have dinner with Mickey and Minnie, or she'd stay in and do laundry and watch tv, or paint if she could conjure up the motivation. It was just how things were.

Except for tonight.

_"Goodbye, Daisy." Della says, and the blows through her hair, and her eyes are soft and her smile fragile around the edges._

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_"Could I come with you?" Daisy asks, instead of waking up._

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_Della laughs a bit, "You know I want you too," she smiles again, and it’s sadder this time, "Goodbye Daisy."_

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_There's a long silence, and Daisy doesnt want to say it back. She doesn't. If shes says goodbye then she will truly be gone, and Daisy doesnt want to acknowledge that. She wants Della to stay, she wants her here, with her, on this grassy hill, forever and ever. She opens her mouth to tell her that, and she says- she says-_

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_"Goodbye, Della."_

Daisy wakes up with tears running down her cheeks and the sunlight shining on her face through the blinds and a bed she knows, without a doubt, is empty. She calls in sick to work, and she goes to the park, and the fresh air feels good as she sits in the grass. She feels lighter, like… like she's finally let go. Like she's finally got closure.

She doesn't have the dream again.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you liked it!


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